This week, a drink with Diane Dupuy, founder of the Famous People Players. A black-light theatre troupe featuring developmentally challenged performers, the organization celebrates its 40th anniversary on Saturday with a gala event at its Evans Ave. dinner theatre. After sitting in on a rehearsal, Dupuy and I settled at the theatre’s bar and over martinis discussed Paul Newman, Liberace, Lorne Greene — celebrities who championed the organization over the years — as well as Dupuy’s childhood and how it inspired her to found the theatre in 1974.

You’ve dedicated your career to helping people realize their full potential. Where did this start with you?

I had difficulties in school because I couldn’t sit still or concentrate. I failed grades 3, 6 and 9, and it wasn’t because I was stupid. It was because I wasn’t interested. If I was in school today my family would have gotten a call that I had ADHD.

Did someone help you along the way?

I had this teacher, a nun, and she was so amazing. When you fail a year, you’re too big for the class and people make fun of you. The very first day of Grade 3, the second time, I was out in the recess yard, talking to my imaginary horse, Silver. I wanted to be the Lone Ranger, you see. She walked up and asked who I was talking to and said: “What a beautiful horse, but he’s going to have to be tied up to this tree, and he’ll be waiting for you when you get out of school. Now, you and I will go in and learn about the explorers and the saints.” The way she taught, it was like a symphony conductor, very theatrical. The veil on her head would flap, the rosary beads would clang. You paid attention to her . . . it seemed like she had ADHD herself.

Were you ever prescribed medication?

In my day that didn’t happen. But I now have a grandson, and he’s on medication. But I find even today, when I have to go to a cocktail party, my eyes dart all over the room. Some people think I’m being rude, but I’m not.

It can be a hard thing to control.

I could have very easily taken the wrong path in life. You see, my dad was an alcoholic and as a child, when he was drinking and I was bad, he’d lock me in a dark basement. No lights on. When I was in the dark, I would create plays and stories in my head. Pinocchio, Sleeping Beauty. It saved me.

It’s amazing how resilient we can be as children.

I could have gone another route. I was raised Catholic and it was always drummed into me in school that you can’t commit sin. I’d count the sins as we rushed to confession.

Did you ever make stuff up in the confession booth? I never knew what to say.

Oh, did we ever. The first time I made confession, all the kids were lined up against the wall. We didn’t know what to say. I told the girl next to me to tell the priest that she stole Sister Marcelina’s chalk. To the other, the brushes. Books. An apple.

A class full of kleptomaniacs. And no matter the confession, you were given two Hail Marys.

That was it, I know. I went in and said I took something from her desk. The priest, loudly, asked “Is there anything left in Sister Marcelina’s class?”

Eric Veillette tweets about spirits, cocktails and the city @VeilletteTO

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